


A New Reason to Celebrate

by captainamergirl



Series: Rare Pairs [2]
Category: Days of Our Lives
Genre: F/M, Rare Characters, Rare Pairings, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25355971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainamergirl/pseuds/captainamergirl
Summary: {2005} Billie runs into someone she once knew.
Relationships: Brandon Walker/Billie Reed
Series: Rare Pairs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1836238





	A New Reason to Celebrate

**A New Reason to Celebrate**

“Ooh, I love this,” Chelsea Benson said, fingering the hem of a short denim skirt.  
  
“We are shopping for winter clothes, remember?” Billie Reed reminded her.  
  
Billie had offered to take Chelsea to Chicago to do some shopping so they could bond. She wanted to please Chelsea so badly. She wanted her newly discovered daughter to love her as much as Billie already loved her.  
  
“It doesn’t matter,” Chelsea said. “I want to get it.”  
  
“Okay, I guess.” Billie couldn’t help but think that she shouldn’t give into Chelsea’s every whim, but she didn’t want to scare her off. They had been making slight progress towards having some semblance of a relationship.  
  
“Check this out, Billie,” Chelsea said, moving over to a rack of dresses. She pulled out a size 2 cream-colored halter dress with a skirt Billie could only describe as “foofy”.  
  
“Can I get it?” She asked.  
  
“I don’t know, it looks expensive. How much does it cost?”  
  
“Does it matter?” Chelsea asked. “You said you wanted to buy me clothes.”  
  
“Maybe you could choose something more practical.”  
  
“I don’t want to be practical. Practical is boring, bland outfits with granny shoes like the ones you’re wearing.” She smirked.  
  
“Chelsea!”  
  
“I’m just kidding. Don’t freak out.”  
  
Billie was hurt and embarrassed. Did her daughter really think her so uncool? Would she ever be able to relate to her daughter? Would Chelsea ever let her in?  
  
No matter what Billie tried to do, Chelsea couldn’t resist the urge to take potshots at her. Would she ever be able to fully accept Billie as her mother? Would she ever forgive Billie for not being around when she was a child?  
  
“I’m going to get this, okay?” Chelsea said, breaking into Billie’s thoughts. She was holding up the cream-colored dress.  
  
She handed it to Billie. Billie looked at the price tag. “Wow, it costs almost four hundred dollars. That’s a lot of money.” Billie hadn’t bought herself something this expensive in years.  
  
“Chelsea, maybe we should discuss this.”  
  
“Why?”

"Because four hundred dollars is a lot of money and this isn't exactly suitable for winter."

“I can wear it to the Brady Thanksgiving dinner.”

“I was hoping you would spend the holiday with me.” 

“I can’t. Bo already asked me to join them for dinner. I can’t say 'no' to my father.” 

Why was it that Chelsea called Bo “father” but couldn’t bring herself to call Billie “mother”? She knew it was splitting hairs but it bothered her just the same. 

“So can I get the dress?” Chelsea changed the subject. 

“I am sorry, but no. It’s just too expensive.”

“What? You promised me when I agreed to go shopping with you that you would buy me things.” 

“Look we’ve already got five items here.”

“They’re all cheap. I want something classy, something that says I’ve got style.”

“You’ve got tons of style. You are already the best dressed girl I know.”

“Grandma Kate would buy it for me.” 

“I’m not my mother.” 

“I thought you wanted to bond. I thought you wanted to make me happy.” 

“I do.”

“Then buy me this dress, pretty please with cherries on top.” 

“Fine,” Billie agreed. “I’ll be over there looking at the jewelry. When you’re done, come get me.” 

“I will. Thanks, Billie.” 

“You're welcome.” Billie walked away. She couldn’t help feeling that she had been taken advantage of. 

“Billie,” a male voice came from behind her. “Billie Reed, is that you?”

Billie turned and immediately her face broke out into a smile. “Brandon Walker.” 

“In the flesh.”

“I haven’t seen you in ages.” 

“I know. What have you been up to?”

“Well … I have a daughter now.” 

“You had a baby – congratulations!” 

“No, not exactly. It’s a long story, but suffice it to say that my daughter didn’t die after all, and she is lives in Salem with me.”

“That’s incredible. You must be thrilled.” 

“Yes … we are still adjusting to living together. It’s not easy being the mother of a hormonal teenage girl.” She smiled at him. “What are you up to these days?”

“I live here now. I’ve got a great job at a physical therapist’s office. I get paid well.”

“You live so close to Salem and you never visit,” she chided gently. 

“I know. But the last time I was in Salem … well, let’s just say that it wasn’t a pleasant experience.” 

“So I’ve heard.” 

“The old Salem grapevine is alive and well, I see.” 

“I found out from my mother that she drugged you and Sami, and set you up in bed together.” 

“You’re kidding. I just thought I was very drunk.”

“No, you weren’t. I had a hard time being in the same room my mother for awhile after that.”

“I understand,” Brandon said. “Well, I’d better get going. I have to get back to work in an hour. I only stopped in for some new socks.” 

“It was nice talking to you, Brandon,” she said. She watched him turn away. “Wait, Brandon!”

“Yes?”

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving? Are you coming home to Salem?” 

“Nah. I don’t really have the time. I have to work the next day.” 

“But what about Nicole? Don’t you want to see her?"

“Sure I do, but Salem is not a good place for me to be right now.” 

“Are you sure? Because I’d like to invite you to dinner.” 

“That wouldn’t work because of my schedule. _But_ I have an idea,” he said. “Why don’t you bring your daughter up here for the holiday and we’ll have dinner at this little place I know that serves great food and is open on Thanksgiving?” 

“I don’t know …” 

“C’mon, it would be fun. You can catch me up on all the latest goings-on in Salem.” 

“If you’re sure I wouldn’t be a bother.” 

“You wouldn’t.” A soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You’re never a bother.” 

“Thanks. It sounds like fun.” 

Brandon pulled a business card from his pocket. “Call me tomorrow and we’ll go over the details.” 

“I will.” 

They said their goodbyes and he left. She went to find Chelsea and tell her it was time to go home. 

** 

“Are you sure you won’t come with me?” Billie asked a few days later. It was Thanksgiving and the weather was cold. Flecks of snow dotted the window panes. 

“I’m sure,” Chelsea said. “I already told you I’m having dinner with my father and his family.” 

She walked into the living room. “How do I look?” She was wearing her new halter dress. It hugged her petite frame and fell in waves around her long legs. Her hair was done up in a fancy French twist. 

“You look beautiful, Chelsea,” Billie assured her. “You’ll be the hit of the party.” 

“I hope so.” 

“Well, you take care and have a good time. Remember to drive carefully – the roads are wet.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

Billie wanted to embrace her daughter but didn’t dare. “Happy Thanksgiving, Chelsea,” she said. 

“Happy Thanksgiving,” Chelsea said. “You’d better go, or you’re going to be late.” 

“You’re right. Bye. Take care.” Grabbing a jacket and her purse, Billie hurried out of the house.

**

Billie searched the busy Chicago streets for a place to park. For a holiday, the streets were packed. Maybe everyone was eating out this year. Slaving over a hot stove, basting a turkey, making dressing, and putting marshmallows in candied yams probably didn’t hold much appeal to most of these people. Billie, herself, did like to cook sometimes, and would have loved to make Thanksgiving dinner for her and Chelsea. 

Billie found a parking garage two blocks down from BJ’s - the restaurant she was meeting Brandon at. She locked up her car and hurried down the street, walking at a brisk pace. It was very cold and she wanted to get into a warm building _pronto._

When she reached the restaurant, she could see Brandon through the window chatting with the maître-d. _I hope Brandon doesn’t think this is a setup,_ she thought. _I would be so humiliated if he thought I dumped Chelsea so I could be alone with him._

Not that she minded being alone with him. She just didn’t want him to think she was desperate.

She opened the door, and approached Brandon. “Welcome to BJ’s,” the maître-d greeted her. 

_“Billie!”_ Brandon said. 

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long. I couldn’t find a place to park.”

The maître-d led them to their table and took their drink orders. Billie ordered a white wine and Brandon a good old-fashioned beer.

Brandon helped her out of her jacket. “I hope I’m not under dressed,” Billie said, noting that Brandon was wearing a pressed white dress shirt and black slacks. She had dressed in a warm, orange-colored cable-knit sweater, and a new pair of blue denim jeans. 

“You look perfect,” Brandon assured her. 

“Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.” 

“Billie, were you always this much of a flatterer?” 

“I try my best.” 

The waiter brought their drinks and the menus. Billie eyed the Thanksgiving menu – it had all of her favorites: baked turkey and dressing with mushrooms; mash potatoes and a thick honey-gravy sauce; cranberry salad; candied yams, and homemade pumpkin pie. 

“It all looks tasty,” Billie said. 

The waiter took their orders (they both wanted the holiday special) and walked away. 

“How’s your wine?” Brandon asked. 

“Perfect. And what about your beer?”

“There is nothing better than a cold beer.” 

“Let’s make a toast,” Brandon said. “To Thanksgiving.” 

“And new beginnings, and a rich, healthy life,” Billie added.

“Sounds good,” he agreed, and they clinked glasses. 

“I am curious – why didn’t you invite Nicole to join you?”

“I actually did, but she is working on a business venture - with you brother of all people – and can’t leave town.” 

“I know you still have some hard feelings towards Austin.” 

“What’s in the past, is in the past.” He tried to wave it off. 

“But it still bothers you.” 

“Yes. I half wish that Austin had married Sami, so I didn’t have to.” 

Billie didn’t know what to say to that. Then she noticed his smile and grinned. “Very funny.” 

“So what about you – what’s going on in Billie’s World? What is your daughter’s name? What's she like?”

“Chelsea is her name, and she’s a handful. I worry that she will never accept me as her mother. Her adoptive parents died in a car crash and she still blames me.” 

“How is that your fault?” 

“I could have stopped it,” Billie said. 

“You can’t blame yourself. Accidents happen.” 

“Yes, I suppose they do.” Surprisingly, Billie didn’t feel the least bit of hesitation talking with him about Chelsea. 

“And I assume Bo Brady is Chelsea’s father?”

“Yes.” 

“That must be a bit uncomfortable for you.” 

“Yes, it is. Very.” Billie frowned. “I still miss him a lot, but I know that I have to move on.” 

“Someday, you’ll find the perfect guy for you. Who knows he may be right in front of your face.” He winked. 

Billie wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but the waiter had arrived with their dinner. They chatted and stuffed themselves until they were both holding their stomachs. 

“I never want to see another piece of pie,” Billie said, as they walked out of the restaurant. “Hell, I never want to see food again, period.” 

“Me, either,” Brandon agreed with a laugh.

It was dark and cold outside, and even with her jacket on, Billie shivered. “I’ll drive you to your hotel,” Brandon said.

“My hotel?”

“Yes. You’re staying in town tonight, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m going to drive home.”

“You can’t do that.” 

“I can’t?” 

“No. You are probably tired from the drive up. You shouldn’t be driving in the dark. What if you fell asleep at the wheel?” 

“I won’t. I’ll just roll down the windows and crank up the stereo. That will keep me wide awake.” 

“Just stay here. There is no point in going home now.” 

“Brandon, I –“

“Billie,” he said. “I’m trying to tell you, in my own clumsy way, that I want you to stay. With me.” 

“Really?“ 

Brandon nodded. “I don’t want this night to end. I’ve had a great time.” 

“So have I.”

Brandon cupped her face in his hands and gave her a long, slow kiss. “Please stay.” 

“You make it awfully hard to say 'no'... I'll stay... Happy Thanksgiving, Brandon Walker.” 

“Happy Thanksgiving, Billie Reed.” 

And with that he took her hand, and led her down the city street. 


End file.
